Conundrum
by J. B. Tilton
Summary: Travis suddenly finds himself completely alone on the Enterprise.


ENTERPRISE  
"CONUNDRUM"  
by J. B. Tilton  
email: aramath@isot.com  
Rating: G  
  
Disclaimer: "Star Trek", "Enterprise", and all related   
characters and events are the sole property of Paramount Pictures,   
Inc., except for those specifically created by me for this story.   
This is fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.  
  
* * *  
  
Travis suddenly finds himself completely alone on the   
Enterprise.  
  
* * *  
  
ONE  
  
Travis sat up and looked around. He was lying in one of the   
corridors of the Enterprise. That was odd. Why would he be doing   
that? Maybe he had been walking through the corridor and passed out.   
If that had happened, he'd better have the doctor check him out.  
  
There were no other people in the corridor with him. He had no   
idea how long he had lain there. He checked the room tags on the   
doors around him. He was near sickbay. That was a lucky break. Dr.   
Phlox could check him out and make sure he was okay.  
  
As he walked to sickbay he noticed how warm it was. It must be   
nearly one hundred degree Fahrenheit in the corridor. He'd have to   
let Commander Tucker know the environmental controls were   
malfunctioning in that section.  
  
Sickbay was empty. That was unusual. Dr. Phlox was nearly   
always in there performing one experiment or other. Not even any of   
his assistants were around. Now that was very odd. SOMEONE was   
always there to attend t any emergencies that might arise.  
  
Travis checked the chronometer. It read 14:03. He was late for   
his shift on the bridge. Other than the stifling heat, he felt fine.   
He'd have to have Phlox look him over after his duty shift. He turned   
and headed for the bridge.  
  
As he left sickbay he glanced at the temperature gauge on the   
wall. It was just changing from one hundred two degrees to one   
hundred three degrees. He'd notify Tucker as soon as he got to the   
bridge. Apparently more than one section was experiencing   
environmental problems.  
  
The corridors were as deserted as sickbay. Especially in the   
middle of the afternoon the corridors should have been crowded. But   
this time Travis passed no one at all. He took the turbo lift to Deck   
One.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," he said, stepping off the lift. "I was in   
sickbay but there . . ."  
  
Travis stopped dead in his tracks. He looked around the bridge.   
It was totally deserted. Not one station was being manned.  
  
That was impossible. At least two people manned the bridge at   
all times. He was scheduled to relieve Ensign Bingham at the helm.   
And she was as devoted to duty as he was. She would never have left   
the helm unmanned for any reason.  
  
Travis took his seat at the helm. Everything seemed to be in   
order. Almost everything, that is. Even on the bridge the   
temperature was one hundred three degrees. It would seem the   
environmental malfunction was ship wide. Not knowing what else to do,   
Travis paged the captain.  
  
There was no response from the captains' ready room. He tried   
again. Again there was no response. He tried the captains' quarters.   
There was no response from his quarters, either. Then he tried the   
captains' private dining room. Still no response. Travis contacted   
engineering.  
  
"Bridge to Commander Tucker," he said.  
  
No response.  
  
"Bridge to engineering," he said.  
  
Again, no response.  
  
One by one he tried to contact all of the senior staff officers.   
There was no response from anyone. He was starting to get a very bad   
feeling. He activated the ship wide channel.  
  
"Bridge to anyone on board the Enterprise," he said.  
  
The seconds ticked by as he waited for a response that never   
came.  
  
"Ensign Mayweather to anyone on the Enterprise," he repeated.   
"Report to the bridge immediately."  
  
No one responded. A quick check indicated that the equipment   
was operating perfectly. That left only two possibilities. One was   
that none of the crew was able to respond, which Travis clearly did   
not accept. Of the nearly ninety people on board, someone should have   
been able to respond. But the second option was just as unacceptable.  
  
No one had responded because there was no one on board to   
respond. Travis was completely alone on the Enterprise.  
  
TWO  
  
Travis considered the possibilities of what could have happened.   
The most likely was that the entire crew had abandoned ship. Except   
that all the escape pods and shuttle pods were still securely in   
place. They couldn't have abandoned ship. And they surely wouldn't   
have left him behind if they had.  
  
The second possibility was that they had been forcibly removed.   
That made as little sense as the first possibility. Captain Archer   
would never have surrendered the ship without a fight. And there was   
no indication that the Enterprise had been in a battle.  
  
Besides, why remove the entire crew and leave him on board   
alone? And why not take the ship, too? If someone had taken the   
crew, they would surely have taken the ship to find out its' secrets.   
Or at the very least destroyed it to prevent anyone from finding out   
what had happened.  
  
Travis checked his console. It didn't make any sense, either.   
They were moving at warp five. But he didn't recognize any of the   
star constellations. Even if they were in a different part of the   
galaxy, he should have recognized at least some of them. The star   
patterns he was looking at were completely alien to him.  
  
Travis began to decelerate the ship. He didn't want to go any   
farther until he was able to figure out what was going on. And the   
ships' engines couldn't withstand operating at warp five for very   
long.  
  
Except the controls didn't respond. The Enterprise continued to   
move through space at warp five. Travis tried the backup circuits and   
even the manual override. Nothing worked. No matter what he did, he   
couldn't alter thee ships' course or speed.  
  
That was dangerous. Even though the engines were rated for warp   
five, it was the extreme range of their speed. They couldn't keep it   
up for long. Eventually they would overload, destroying the   
Enterprise in a massive explosion.  
  
Travis quickly checked each of the other stations on the bridge.   
They were all the same. Nothing seemed to work properly. Only the   
most minor equipment seemed unaffected.  
  
The chronometer continued to tick off the seconds. The   
environmental readout still registered the environment inside the   
ship. And the temperature was now one hundred four degrees. It was   
uncomfortably warm. If this continued, he would eventually pass out   
from the heat.  
  
Travis reached under the tactical console and removed a phase   
pistol. Good old Malcolm. Always ready for a scrap. Travis set the   
pistol on stun and headed for the turbo lift.  
  
There was nothing he could do on the bridge. None of the   
controls responded. But somewhere on the ship there had to be a clue   
as to what was going on. Some indication of where the crew was.  
  
Travis decided to start in engineering. If he couldn't find   
anything there at least he might be able to restore control to the   
ship. Or reset the environmental controls. As T'Pol would say, it   
would be the logical place to start.  
  
But he would swing by sickbay first. He was operating blind.   
One of the doctors' medical tricorders would help him locate anyone   
who was still on the Enterprise. A few simple adjustments and he   
would be able to scan for several meters in any direction. At the   
very least he'd be ready if someone tried to attack him.  
  
Apprehension was growing in him. Even if he did find someone on   
board, he couldn't be sure if they were friendly. Or if he'd even be   
able to communicate with them. Without Hoshi to translate it would be   
difficult to establish any kind of communication.  
  
Travis moved cautiously through the corridors of the ship, phase   
pistol at the ready. The silence, which met him, reminded him of some   
ancient tomb. A feeling he hoped would not prove to be prophetic.  
  
THREE  
  
Travis had no better luck in engineering than he had on the   
bridge. All the controls seemed to be frozen. He couldn't alter the   
ships' course, speed, or environmental controls. And the internal   
temperature of the ship was now one hundred five degrees. In only two   
hours the temperature had risen three degrees.  
  
But the ships' engines had been operating at warp five for all   
that time. Why hadn't they overloaded by now? They weren't designed   
to sustain that speed for this length of time.  
  
Travis spun, pistol at the ready. Had he heard voices? Vague,   
indistinct voices as if someone were whispering. He hadn't been able   
to make out any words and they hadn't been distinct enough for him to   
recognize the voices.  
  
He scanned the area with the tricorder. The only life form   
registering was his own. Maybe the isolation and high temperature   
were beginning to make his imagination work overtime. Hearing sounds   
where there weren't any.  
  
Travis spun again. That time he was sure he had heard voices.   
Still the tricorder registered only his life readings. Which meant   
whoever it was must either be out of range of the tricorder or was a   
life form the tricorder wasn't designed to pick up.  
  
Cautiously Travis made his way toward where he thought he had   
heard the voices. If someone was whispering, it probably meant there   
were at least two of them. Maybe more. And they were trying very   
carefully not to be seen or found.  
  
He found no one in engineering. Which didn't make any sense.   
If they had left, he would have heard the hiss as the doors opened and   
closed. He hadn't heard that hiss. Which could only mean he must   
have imagined hearing the voices. The isolation, uncertainty of the   
situation, and the rising temperature of the ship were beginning to   
affect him.  
  
He left engineering and headed for the mess hall. He needed to   
replenish the fluids he was loosing from the heat. That might help to   
alleviate some of his hallucinations a bit.  
  
Travis stopped in the middle of the corridor. There were those   
voices again. Mostly vague and indistinct. His tricorder still   
didn't register any life form but his own.  
  
But this time her had heard his name mentioned. At least, it   
sounded like his name. And it had sounded almost like Captain   
Archers' voice. Was the Captain still on board? Perhaps injured,   
lying in some corridor somewhere, calling out for help?  
  
"Captain, is that you?" called Travis into the corridor ahead.  
  
His voice reverberated off the bulkheads. He waited for a   
response, but none came. The corridor was as silent as before.  
  
"Captain Archer," called out Travis again, "it's me, Travis.   
Where are you, Captain?"  
  
Again he was met with only silence. Still his tricorder   
registered only him in the corridor. He was still alone. Convinced   
he had only imagined the voices, he continued on to the mess hall.  
  
The water helped but only a little. The stifling heat was   
becoming more than uncomfortable. And he was no closer to stopping   
the ship or discovering the whereabouts of the crew than he had been   
two hours ago.  
  
He did have one option left to him. He could jettison the warp   
core. That would take the ship out of warp drive. The automatic   
reset would engage, possibly restoring control of the environmental   
controls.  
  
It could also leave him years from the nearest habitable planet.   
The impulse drive couldn't get the ship anywhere near light speed.   
And as far out as they apparently were, it could take another Star   
Fleet ship decades or even longer to reach him. Assuming he could   
even contact Star Fleet Command. He could well spend the rest of his   
life alone in deep space.  
  
Jettisoning the warp core would be his last option. And then   
only if it became absolutely necessary. Before that happened, he was   
determined to find some other way to restore control to the ship. And   
to locate his missing crewmates.  
  
FOUR  
  
Travis was starting to become lethargic. It was hard to   
concentrate. Hard to remember what he had to do next. All he wanted   
to do was close his eyes and sleep. But he knew he couldn't do that.   
It had been just over four hours since he had awakened in the corridor   
outside sickbay. He knew that if he closed his eyes, he'd never open   
them again.  
  
The Enterprise still raced through space at warp five. Why?   
Why hadn't the engines exploded long ago? They couldn't take that   
kind of strain. Still, they continued to operate, pushing the ship   
farther on.  
  
Travis had long ago decided to ignore the voices he was hearing.   
He could never locate them. And his tricorder continued to register   
no life forms but his own. In the end, he could only conclude he was   
simply imagining the hushed whispers always just out of range.  
  
His degrading condition concerned him. Why was he slipping so   
quickly? Obviously the human body couldn't tolerate his present   
circumstances indefinitely. But it had only been four hours. He   
shouldn't be so debilitated so quickly.  
  
These thoughts slipped from his mind. The voices had returned.   
He imagined Dr. Phlox calling to him down a long tunnel. He couldn't   
make out the words but he imagined it was the doctors' voice. And   
there was the ever-present sound of Captain Archers' voice. Even   
though he knew they were hallucinations, they were comforting to him.   
As if he wasn't alone on the ship after all.  
  
The turbo lift doors opened onto the bridge. Travis stumbled   
out of the lift, nearly loosing his footing. He caught himself on the   
arm of Archers' command chair. He was so tired. He needed to rest,   
if even for just a few minutes.  
  
Travis slumped down into the command chair. His phase pistol   
and tricorder glittered to the floor. He made a token effort to   
retrieve them, and then leaned back in the chair. It was very   
comfortable. He would sit here for just a few minutes to regain his   
strength. He was so tired, so tired.  
  
For an instant Travis imagined Captain Archer standing over him.   
He smiled weakly. First, he was having auditory hallucinations, now   
there were visual ones. Just a minute or two of rest, then he would   
continue his search of the ship. Without ever realizing it, Travis   
lost consciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
"Travis? Travis, can you hear me?"  
  
Travis opened his eyes and saw Captain Archer and Dr. Phlox   
standing over him. He was lying on one of the biobeds in sickbay.   
The temperature seemed to have returned to normal. Travis tried to   
sit up but Archer stopped him.  
  
"Easy, Travis," said Archer. "You've been through a lot. Just   
lie there and rest."  
  
"Welcome back, Ensign," said Phlox, looking over a medical PADD.   
"The fever has broken. I would say the worst is over, Captain. What   
Ensign Mayweather needs most now is rest."  
  
"Captain, what happened?" asked Travis. "You and the rest of   
the crew vanished. I was alone on the Enterprise."  
  
"Merely a fever induced delusion, Ensign," said Phlox. "You've   
been in sickbay since your return from the planets' surface."  
  
"You've been unconscious for nearly six hours," said Archer.   
"The doctor says it was a reaction to an insect bite."  
  
"It was touch and go, as you humans say," said Phlox. "Lucky   
for you I was able to isolate the toxin in time and was able to   
synthesize an antidote."  
  
"Insect bite?" questioned Travis.  
  
"Some short term memory loss is perfectly normal in humans   
involving high fever," Phlox explained to Archer.  
  
"We were investigating a planet," Archer explained to Travis.   
"You suddenly collapsed. The doctor says you suffered an insect bite  
and had an allergic reaction to it. We thought we were going to loose   
you."  
  
"Your temperature reached one hundred five degrees," said Phlox.   
"Perfectly normal for a Rendosian, but extremely dangerous for a   
human. Rest now, Ensign. You need to regain your strength."  
  
"Captain," Travis began to protest.  
  
"You do as the doctor says," said Archer. "That's an order.   
The bridge isn't going anywhere and you need to get better. You gave   
us quite a scare."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Travis. "Sorry about that, sir."  
  
"Just get better," said Archer. "I need my best helmsman on the   
bridge."  
  
After Archer left sickbay, Travis lay on the bed thinking about   
his dream. It had seemed so real. He had been convinced he was alone   
on the Enterprise, hurtling through space, when all along he had been   
in sickbay.  
  
Right now he was tired. With the "crisis" now passed, he could   
sleep as long as he wanted to. He rolled over on the bed and closed   
his eyes to rest up from his ordeal. This time he was sure there   
would be no phantom voices calling to him from the distance.  
  
The End  
  
If you've enjoyed this story, you can find more "Enterprise"   
stories at my website, www.geocities.com/aramath/ . You can also post   
your own "Enterprise" stories if you like to write fan fiction. 


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